


lost & found

by downmoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, a wild doggo appears too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downmoon/pseuds/downmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>normal people don't take strange dogs into their homes, but Tooru's long given up on being normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost & found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemedy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemedy/gifts).



> happy birthday dearest lemedy! i'm so happy that we've been able to become pals. angst is the stuff of true friendship. i hope your day is amazing!!
> 
>  
> 
> (many thanks to [flenser](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Flenser/pseuds/Flenser) for helping me brainstorm this)
> 
> [tumblr](downmoonwrites.tumblr.com)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dyefighter)

Oikawa Tooru is not graceless.

Far from it, actually; he’s pretty put together- rational, organized, and–some people might disagree with him on this–he has a certain sense of charm that makes him likable. He’s smart and athletic, as quick on his feet as he is in mind. Well-rounded.

So no, he’s not a mess, but damn if there aren’t days when he allows himself to be.

It’s not really his fault, though. Summer has settled firmly into existence, and with its arrival came a blistering heat wave, the kind of temperatures that had no business springing up before 8 in the morning, the kind of temperatures that drive all neighborhood walkers, bikers, and dog walkers into their air-conditioned homes.

All but him, it seems.

He refuses to break his morning run routine, but regret at the hand of his own stubbornness weighs heavily upon him. It’s just _so_ hot. With the amount of sweat dripping down his back, and into his eyes, he’s sure he’s quite the disheveled mess. It’s probably for the best he hasn’t encountered anyone on this run.

He wheezes both in triumph and difficulty when he turns the last corner. Maybe he shouldn’t have done his full circuit on such a hot day, but at least he’s on the last stretch back to his apartment. Just one long, open stretch of sun-baked road-

And a dog.

Tooru stops abruptly at the appearance of the dog in the road. His chest burns as he gasps for breath, sweating and confused and a little wary. He’s not afraid of dogs, not really, just.

He doesn’t particularly _like_ them, and he’s decidedly not into random encounters with strange dogs.

“Hello…” he says quietly, shifting his hips. His thighs are starting to tingle in his stillness, little starbursts of feeling in the muscle in the absence of movement. He’s not sure how to handle this.

The dog, for its part, looks pleasant enough, tail wagging slightly when Tooru speaks. He takes a hesitant step forward, and then another, trying to edge past the dog. The dog pants, pink tongue lolling of its mouth, but otherwise seems to ignore him.

At least, until he tries to start his run again. Then the dog seems to take interest, and turns towards him. Tooru startles back into stillness, staring at the dog.

“Stay,” he tries, holding out a hand. The dog takes a step forward, and Tooru takes a step back, towards sunshine, the road home, the safety of his apartment. Maybe he can make a run for it; he’s pretty fast when he wants to be. He takes another step back, but the dog starts wagging its tail again, and draws even closer.

 _“Stay,”_ he tries again, this time more firmly. The dog makes some kind of noise- not quite a bark, or a growl, but a whimper, maybe, the beginning of a howl, like a note of protest. Tooru holds his hand out and repeats himself, the dog still following him as he inches backwards.

“I’m serious, dog,” he says, looking around. The streets are just as silent as they had been an hour earlier, when he started his run. “Stay. _Stay.”_

The dog stops, tail slowly drooping down. The dog has started panting again, short, quick breaths. Tooru can see every one of its white teeth.

He manages five solid, nervous steps backwards before he turns around, hand still held out awkwardly behind him. He keeps looking over his shoulder, but the dog doesn’t seem inclined to follow him anymore.

He doesn’t start his run again until he bolts across the street to his apartment complex. He squints on the porch, staring down the long stretch of road leading into the residential neighborhood, but the dog would be too far away to see, anyway. He’s relieved, in a way. Sad, too. He’s not _heartless,_ after all, and the poor thing out in the heat…

He shakes his head and finally unlocks the door. It’s stuffy inside, the small space not exactly conducive to air circulation, especially not when it’s this hot outside, but the bliss of stepping into a cold shower makes it bearable. He relishes in the cool water for as long as he can; classes may be on break, but he still has work to go to, and he can’t linger all day, even though he’d like to. Still, he’s crunched for time when he gets out of the shower. His hair’s still wet when he’s falling out the front door, an apple in his mouth, stuffing a water bottle into his bag. He fumbles the lock and stuffs his keys into his pocket, but shrieks when he turns around, apple nearly falling out of his mouth.

It’s the dog.

Sitting neatly on his porch.

Tooru looks nervously out at the road, relieved and curious as to how this dog didn’t get hit by a car. The dog stands up, and the tail starts wagging as Tooru flattens himself against the door. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and manages to unlock the door without looking, closing himself back inside the safety of his home, but he groans as the door shuts. There’s no way he can miss work over this, but he doesn’t know what to do, who to call.

“Why me?” he whines to the empty kitchen. The cracked linoleum and the peeling cabinets have no answer for him.

He groans, pushing himself away from the door. He digs a plastic bowl out of the mess of their cupboards and fills it with cool water. He steels himself with a deep breath before opening the door again, peeking out to confirm that yes, the dog is still out there.

“You can’t just follow me home,” he says, crouching down gingerly and placing the bowl of water in the far corner of the porch. The dog watches him, still panting, still wagging its tail, eyes intent on the bowl. Tooru slips away when the dog goes for the water, taking the stairs quickly and bolting for the sidewalk as soon as he figures the dog is distracted.

The bus station’s just a quick walk from his apartment, and luckily, the bus is just pulling up as he arrives, still looking over his shoulder with paranoia. He doesn’t breathe easy until the doors of the bus close, and it begins its journey into the city proper. He sways precariously as the bus moves, digging his phone out of his back pocket.

**[To: Iwa chan]**

**[9:42 am]**

_There’s a dog on our porch_

 

Except, there isn’t a dog on their porch, not when Tooru finally arrives back home. The plastic bowl is empty, tipped over on the porch, but it’s so hot that any trace of spilled water has disappeared. He picks up the bowl and tries the doorknob, surprised to find it locked. He’d dealt with Iwa-chan’s texts all day, ranging from anger to excitement, laced with a tirade about responsibility Tooru hadn’t even bothered replying to. Then he’d gotten busy and distracted, and with an hour of working left, the texts had stopped. Tooru was half expecting the dog to still be on the porch, and Iwa-chan to be home, still be on his tear about responsibility, but oh well. If Iwa-chan’s not home yet, he can-

The dog.

The dog is in the apartment. His apartment. His and Iwa-chan’s shared apartment.

Chewing on his sneaker.

“Iwa-chan!” he says in a thin voice, the kind of airy high-pitch tone that Iwa-chan’s always irritated by. Sure enough, he turns the corner by the fridge with a scowl on his face, although it’s softened just the slightest bit by something like guilt.

“Do you need your inhaler, or are you wheezing like that on purpose?” he says flatly.

Tooru waves the bowl in his hand towards the dog, the dog that has lost interest in his shoe and is now wagging its tail in the middle of the kitchen.

“What –what. How. What-”

“He let himself in.”

“The _dog_ let itself in-”

“He doesn’t have a collar,” Iwa-chan interrupts, “and I know neither of us have the time to take him across the city to the animal shelter. And besides, he seems friendly enough.”

“Friendly enough-!”

“Do _you_ want to get him on a bus and two different trains to the animal shelter?” Iwa-chan says, frowning. Tooru’s mouth snaps shut.

“Didn’t think so.”

“But– wha– it can’t stay here. Iwa-chan, we can’t house a _dog!”_

And there’s that touch of guilt again.

Iwa-chan looks off to the side, a façade of wide-eyed innocence, an act, although rare in its appearance, that always works.

“We can’t just leave him in the streets. He’s gonna get hit or dehydrated, no doubt about it.”

“Yeah, but the landlord…”

“Look, we’ll just-” Iwa-chan shrugs, “we’ll be sneaky, alright?”

“Sneaky? Iwa-chan, Have you ever broken a rule in your life?”

“Would you shut up? I already made some posts about a lost dog. We’ll just wait and see if we hear anything.”

Tooru’s already got an argument on the tip of his tongue, but the dog licks his hand, and he gasps instead.

“Look, it won’t be that long,” Iwa-chan says, still trying to be the voice of reason in this scenario, “There’s no doubt someone’s looking for him.”

“But –”

“I’ll make some flyers, too, and we’ll put them up.”

Iwa-chan snaps his fingers, and the dog turns away from Tooru, who has flattened himself against the door as much as possible in order to avoid a wet nose and a curious tongue. Iwa-chan holds out a hand, and the dog happily sniffs over it, pushing the crown of its head against Iwa-chan’s palm.

“He’ll be out of here soon,” Iwa-chan says softly.

Just one look at Iwa-chan’s face, and Tooru has a feeling that _soon_ won’t be soon enough.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Soon_ has turned into a week, and is beginning to stretch into two.

Tooru was suspicious at first, that Iwa-chan hadn’t actually made any posts about lost dogs, or put up any signs in their neighborhood, but then he saw one on his morning run with both their phone numbers on the poster, and his theory had been proven wrong.

The dog–which they both started calling Inu for lack of a better or more creative name–for his part seems happy enough. He doesn’t bark much, he doesn’t chew on any more shoes, doesn’t jump on the furniture, doesn’t leap onto their counters and eat their food. Inu hasn’t indulged himself in any behaviors Tooru had attributed to typical dogs, based on the stories he’s heard from friends. And Iwa-chan has seemingly embraced this life with Inu, happy to roll out of bed early in the morning to take him for a walk, or roll around on the floor with him after dinner. Iwa-chan even picked up a collar one night on his way home from work, and the innocent satisfaction on his face when he’d clipped it into place pretty much guaranteed that Inu would be staying with them for another week at least.

Not that Tooru minds too much, albeit begrudgingly. Inu is well behaved and sweet natured, and although Tooru takes care to avoid as much interaction with him as possible, there are still instances when he finds himself softened by the extra presence in their apartment.

Softened enough, in fact, that Iwa-chan didn’t even need to persuade, threaten, or otherwise goad Tooru into taking Inu for a morning run, although he could have done without Inu slipping into his bedroom and licking his face first thing in the morning.

It’s a terrible morning for a run; the humidity has, impossibly, gotten worse over the past few days. The instant Tooru steps out the front door, the heat is clinging to him, his hair starting to curl in wild waves, and a sweat already starting to bloom over his skin.

Inu, however, seems utterly unaffected, waiting patiently while Tooru locks the door, then jaunting happily down the steps and across the road. He’s running along at a brisk pace, tongue already lolling out of his mouth, and he looks beyond joyful. Tooru already feels like he’s dying.

There are no neighborhood residents out this morning, just like there hadn’t been the day Inu followed him home, and honestly, it’s better this way. He has an image to uphold, and he’d very likely be mildly horrified if any of the regular morning exercisers were out to see him in all his disheveled, inelegant glory, if _glory_ could even be considered the right word.

Inu tugs on the leash, and they take a right. Tooru wheezes a little bit, the air so thick and moist that breathing is a bit tricky. He wipes sweat out of his eyes, and runs a swift hand through the wreck his hair is turning into. There is, and will be, nothing good about this run, and he groans with the realization.

The street is quiet for the most part, except for the faint sound of shouting. He’s surprised he’s even hearing it. Over the sound of his own harsh breaths, it’s hard to even think straight, and the neighborhood is usually so quiet that hearing any type of loud noise is bizarre. He doesn’t think much of it, however, just continues his laborious run, Inu strutting beside him.

He hears the shout again, maybe a little closer, and he wouldn’t pay it any mind, only this time it’s caught Inu’s attention, his head perking up, ears tense as he turns his head to the side. He doesn’t stop running alongside Tooru, at least, not until they reach a side street.

Tooru grunts as Inu stops, then _pulls_ on the leash. He’s not an overly big dog by any means, but he’s compact, and strong. Tooru almost topples face first into the pavement when Inu’s yanking catches him off balance.

 _“Inu!”_ he yelps out. It does nothing to deter the steadfast determination Inu’s suddenly decided to indulge in, as he half-drags Tooru down the street. Tooru can’t quite get his feet beneath him, however, and he’s left a stumbling mess behind Inu, the leash steadily sliding out of his hand. He knows what’ll happen next, but he tries his best to prevent it anyway, clinging tightly to the leash in hopes that he can somehow prevent the inevitable. It’s no use– Inu tears the leash from Tooru’s hand, and takes off in a full run down the street.

Oikawa Tooru is not graceless.

But in that instant, when panic floods over him, he sure is. He stumbles to his feet, cursing in every breath he exhales, and runs after Inu. He’s having visions of a rare car hurtling down these quiet streets, of his lungs giving out, of Inu disappearing forever. So he runs with near abandon, sneakers pounding the pavement, forcing himself forward step by step.

He can only guess which corner Inu took, but it’s a good guess, as he hears more shouting, this time much closer than the other two instances, and the sound of Inu barking.

Except Inu’s barking sounds nothing like the low yips he’s only ever done in Tooru and Iwa-chan’s apartment, or the single loud bark that sometimes slips out before Tooru can shush him in the mornings. There’s a whine to it, a frantic edge lacing the barking.

The best he can judge, the noise is coming from the left, and Tooru makes an impulsive decision to cut across someone’s backyard in order to get to the next street. He runs across the grass as quickly as possible, but in his grave miscalculation, has to shove his way through a tall garden. He is, because of the shrubbery and the flowers blocking his view, quite surprised, then, to discover another lone person in the neighborhood, kneeling on the pavement as Inu wags his tail and licks at his face.

Tooru stops dead in his tracks, his brain simply refusing to move him any further forward, arms hanging limply by his side, chest heaving as it works overtime to catch up with all the exertion.

“Uh,” he squeaks out, too surprised to manage anything more. The person hasn’t seemed to notice him, but Inu pulls away, bouncing happily back towards Tooru.

“Oh-” the person says, standing up.

“Sorry-” Tooru says at the same time.

“Sorry-”

“No, no, it’s not-”

“I-”

“Is this your dog?”

The person smiles, reaching down to pat Inu as he leans against his legs.

“Yeah,” he says fondly. “He slipped his collar a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been looking for him since.”

“Oh my _god,”_ Tooru says, “I’m _so_ sorry. He followed me home a couple weeks ago, and we– my roommate and I– we haven’t had any time to bring him to a shelter or anything.”

This person– Inu’s owner– doesn’t say anything, but seems to appraise him. The smile never leaves his face as he looks Tooru over. Tooru then becomes acutely aware of what he must look like, sweat-drenched and red-faced, and sighs through his nose. There’s no subtle way to fix his hair or wipe his face, not with this person’s eyes on him.

“I’m glad you didn’t bring him to a shelter, actually,” he says. “Not a very fun place for Yuki.”

“Yuki? Is that his name?”

“Yeah. Why? What were you calling him?”

“Just uh. Just ‘Inu.’”

The person’s smile quirks even more, and he smothers a laugh behind his hand, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes.

“Cute.”

“Well,” Tooru huffs, embarrassed, “we didn’t know what else to call him!”

“No, no, it’s true, good point. I’m Suga, by the way.”

“Oh! Oikawa Tooru.”

Suga nods, pursing his lips, looking thoughtful.

“Thank you for taking care of Yuki,” he says, before Tooru can scramble for any thread of conversation.

“Yeah! Uh, yeah, of course. I’m just sorry we had him for so long.”

“No,” Suga says, waving his hand, “truly, I think it was the best arrangement I could have hoped for. Yuki is obviously fond of you.”

Tooru looks down to see Yuki at his feet, tongue lolling and tail wagging.

“If I may,” Suga goes on to say, “I’d like to thank you for keeping him safe.”

He has his phone in hand, and Tooru immediately tries to refuse the offer.

“Oh, no, please, that’s necessary.”

“No, it is. Just, coffee or lunch sometime.”

Suga determinedly stares at him as he thrusts his phone in Tooru’s direction. There’s already an entry with his name on it waiting for his number, and no real room to argue. Not when Suga’s pinning him with that look.

“It’s really not necessary,” Tooru grumbles under his breath, even as he’s typing his number into Suga’s phone. He hands it back, and Suga beams after he looks at the info.

“At the very least, you can visit Yuki again.”

And to that, Tooru has no retort.

“I’ve got to run,” Suga says, tucking the phone into his pocket and taking a firm hold of Yuki’s leash, “but I’ll see you soon?”

Tooru nods, a little tongue tied. There’s a brightness about Suga, sunlight framing his face and the curves of his smile. Suga waves, and Tooru returns it. He climbs onto a bike Tooru’s only just noticing, Yuki waiting patiently beside him until he starts pedaling. He swears he hears the echo of Suga’s laughter, as he looks backwards over his shoulder, nearly a speck down the road. Tooru stares after them both for a while, until they disappear around a corner.

There’s sweat dripping down his neck, his shirt is damp, his hair certainly a fright. But maybe it’s not such a terrible morning for a run after all. 


End file.
